Suddenly, Love
by Myaxx22
Summary: In retrospect, it was really obvious. All the clues were there, but, then again, she had never been good at taking hints. ExB, ?x? T for robo-cursing!
1. All Improvviso Amore

All'Improvviso Amore belongs to Josh Groban. Since his song inspired this, I'm using it as my title. Josh, if you read this, please don't sue me, I really do love you! And if you haven't heard the song, go download it off iTunes! It's beautiful!!!

I own nothing. Takes place during New Moon, not the usual plotline.

--

I suppose, looking back, I should have figured it out. I mean, all the evidence was there, I just never tried to put it together. But, honestly, can you blame me? I still can hardly bring myself to believe it all really happened. I look up at the being towering over me, blue eyes brilliant, furious, saddened, playful – too many things beyond words. I gasp, but find myself unable to move beyond blinking dumbly as he kneels before me.

A hand, bigger than my torso, extends to me, and as he begins to speak, I ask myself how I got into this mess.

--

(Two Months Prior)

"You've got to be kidding me!" she shouted, frustration cracking her voice.

The only response was the moan of a dead engine. She tried turning the key – once, twice, three times – only to be met with consistent failure.

Her truck was dead.

And, as if that weren't perfect enough, with the number of 'I told you so's she would get from her boyfriend and his family, the weather outside was bordering on a white out, a full on blizzard ravaging the small town of Forks.

She groaned, dropping her head onto the steering wheel as she recalled that her car was the second thing to die that day, her cell phone being the first.

Sighing heavily, she considered where the nearest shelter was, grabbed her school bag from her back seat, left a hastily scrawled note on the driver's seat, and exited the car, determined to make it to her boyfriend's house before she died of frostbite.

--

Edward was anxious.

Hell, if that wasn't an understatement, nothing was. He paced the floor with such focus one might have thought he was meditating, when, in reality, he was considering everything that could have caused Bella to be late. A call to her house had revealed that her cell phone had died earlier, so he had no way to communicate.

Huffing for the thirteenth time, he turned to make his ninety-seventh circuit of the room, noting angrily that it looked exactly the same as it had on the first.

"Edward!"

The call came from upstairs, and his eyes snapped up to see Alice racing toward him, a dead Bella, frozen on the road, being the first thing on her mind.

She had barely opened her mouth when Edward was out the door, racing along the ivory road, praying to a deity he had forgotten for the life of one he never could.

--

Bella shivered, teeth chattering as she tried futilely to keep herself warm. She wrapped her arms farther around her torso, noting with a vague sense of hysteria that she couldn't feel her arms, her fingers long since having given up the battle to stay awake.

Her eyes felt too heavy, and a part of her was reminded of a lecture about hypothermia in Health 1, and how it would cause a person to fall asleep before they froze to death. A part of her mind, which, at the moment, she was fairly sure was insane, noted with no small amount of interest and calmness that it was a fairly odd sensation, and that her skin was finally paler than anyone she knew.

Another part of her mind was busy hyperventilating, curled up in a ball in a tiny, locked room, chanting over and over, 'We're gonna die, we're gonna die.'

All Bella wanted was for them all to shut up and let her sleep.

And Edward. Bella wanted Edward more than anything else. He would make it all better, racing to his warm house, making tea, and exasperatedly asking how she managed to kill her car and phone in the same day.

But really, when sleep was so easily achieved, it seemed silly to not take a quick nap. When she woke up, she could always continue on her way, no problems.

That thought in mind, she lay down at the side of the street and closed her eyes, happily falling unconscious.

--

Edward strained his ears, trying desperately to find Bella's heartbeat. It terrified him to consider that it may already have stopped. His eyes locked onto her truck and for the briefest of moments he dared to hope she had waited for him there, out of the raging wind and snow.

Tearing open the driver's side door only proved to frustrate him further as he discovered a noted in her handwriting that read:

"To whom it may concern,

Going to the Cullens'. Feel free to take truck. It's broken, anyway.

~Bella Swan"

Swearing violently, he turned to run back at a human speed to search for Bella, hoping against hope that he had somehow he had raced past her as she walked and she would be waiting for him, sleeping happily on the couch, when he got back.

Ten minutes later he stalled.

A beating, faint and growing slower, resonated in his ears.

He followed it to a bulge in the snow. Brushing the frozen water away, he, too, became frozen.

Bella lay, breathing shallowly, lips a hideous shade of blue, freezing arteries and veins nearly bulging through her skin.

Nudging her once, noting with terror the lack of response, he tugged her against his chest and ran faster than he thought possible back to his house, reaching the door in a matter of seconds.

Throwing open the door, he screamed, "Carlisle! Help!"

The doctor was there in an instant; taking the girl from Edward's trembling arms and laying her on the sofa nearest the fire that Alice had started in the fireplace in anticipation of Bella's arrival.

Esme placed one cool hand on Edward's shoulder in an attempt to comfort him as his hands tensed enough to leave bloodless gouges in his palms.

And it was in this way that Carlisle worked on Bella long into the night, the rest of his family gathered around, offering silent prayers up to an equally silent God.

--

Bella's eyes fluttered open, watching vague shapes form into faces as muttering solidified to words.

"Edward?" she questioned quietly, her voice barely above a whisper, staring in awe at the face above her.

He smiled softly at her, dipping down to claim her lips in an all-encompassing kiss, cold and gentle.

She sighed as he pulled away, angered at her need of oxygen. A sharp pain in her chest brought her to the conclusion that she had not died out in the snow. Gripping her midsection, she heard Carlisle question, "What hurts, Bella?"

"Nothing," she murmured unconvincingly. "It's not that bad."

"Sure. If that's true I'll never wrestle Edward again."

Emmet? He was there, too?

Finally looking fully around her, Bella noted the presence of the entirety of the Cullen family. Blushing madly, Bella shot Emmet a glare before mumbling the ache in her chest. Carlisle sighed softly, a sympathetic look on his face. A wave of happiness and relaxation broke across her mind, and she thanked Jasper, noting his distance from her.

"Well," began Alice, voice buoyant as ever. "if we're all done with the drama, now, we can start the party!"

Confusion washed over Bella, but before she could ask a question, Jasper reminded her, "It's your birthday, today, remember?"

Bella turned her body, fearful of what she had dubbed, 'Hurricane Alice', but resigned herself to her fate, seeing as she didn't feel much like leaving Edward's stone arms.

Carlisle and Esme carried a small envelope over to Bella and handed it to her, Esme stating, "We know you didn't want presents, but we thought it might help if we told you this was just as much for Edward as it is for you."

Bella blushed and Edward laughed.

Opening the envelope revealed two plane tickets to Phoenix. Bella gasped and reached out to hug Esme, as she was closer than Carlisle. Esme laughed, bells clattering onto a sandstone floor, as Bella thanked her.

Alice danced across the room and plopped a small package into Bella's lap once she finally conceded to letting go of Esme, followed by a rude remark from Emmet about how he didn't know Bella 'swung that way'. Carlisle had laughed and jokingly reminded Bella that Esme was married. Alice and Jasper had laughed, and even Rose cracked a smile at the brilliant shade of red Bella's face took on.

Edward just glared, though, silently, he was thanking whatever force had kept Bella alive through the past evening.

"This one's from Edward," Alice announced once she had stopped laughing. She glanced at Edward and thought to him, 'Don't worry. She's going to love it.'

He smiled in gratitude as Bella stood to turn and kiss Edward on the cheek before running a finger under the paper, jerking it back as she felt a drop of blood squeezed out the paper cut.

Jasper's eyes grew dark and thirsty, and the rest, as they say, is history.

--

Bella remembered going home, explaining to Charlie how her car had died, so she had spent the night at the Cullens', under the watch of Dr. Cullen, how Edward had chosen the moment Charlie asked more about her car to tell Bella to open his gift. Bella shot him a glare to rival his own as she figured out what he had gotten her.

Edward chuckled as she discovered the keys to a red 1977 Lamborghini Countach that was parked innocently across the street, looking as if it had just rolled off the assembly line.

After yelling at him at a volume Edward was fairly certain was impossible for a human voice for bordering on three minutes, Bella threw her arms around him and kissed his cheek.

When Charlie coughed to break them up, she murmured in a voice so low she momentarily wondered if Edward even heard her, "Thank you, my stupid, shiny, beautiful Edward."

Edward's brilliant, crooked smile assured he that he had definitely heard her.


	2. You Are An Idiot

I own nothing. Takes place during New Moon, not the usual E x B or J x B pairings.

--

Bella remembered going home, explaining to Charlie how her car had died, so she had spent the night at the Cullens', under the watch of Dr. Cullen, how Edward had chosen the moment Charlie asked more about her car to tell Bella to open his gift. Bella shot him a glare to rival his own as she figured out what he had gotten her.

Edward chuckled as she discovered the keys to a red 1977 Lamborghini Countach that was parked innocently across the street, looking as if it had just rolled off the assembly line.

After yelling at him at a volume Edward was fairly certain was impossible for a human voice for bordering on three minutes, Bella threw her arms around him and kissed his cheek.

When Charlie coughed to break them up, she murmured in a voice so low she momentarily wondered if Edward even heard her, "Thank you, my stupid, shiny, beautiful Edward."

Edward's brilliant, crooked smile assured he that he had definitely heard her.

The next day he left.

It really was as simple as that. He took every picture she had of him, every video they made, every memory save the car, and that was probably only because she did need it.

He left, totally and completely and utterly gone.

He dumped her, and then he and his family left.

She couldn't find the tears to cry – had he taken those, too? – so she just sat there, staring out the window, waiting for him to drift through to tell her they just had to leave to hunt for a while. They only left her to hunt, but they would come back.

Any day, some time soon, they'd be back.

After nearly a month, Bella finally accepted that Edward was gone, or, at least, agreed to go to school again and re-entered her life cycle for Charlie's sake.

That first morning, when she got into the car, the Lamborghini, the only piece of Edward she had left, she realized it must have been a new car. It smelled like new car.

That morning, the tears had finally come, sitting in the cab of that Lamborghini.

That morning, she had almost felt the seat move to cradle her, the seatbelt not cutting into her, the cab being the perfect temperature, upper eighties, without being stuffy, almost as if it were trying to console her.

That evening, however, was the first time she saw him.

As she sat, doing her homework, staring longingly out the window, she noted the emptiness of the street below her. She glanced down to finish the biology problem she was on, and when she looked up, there he was.

On the sidewalk, right beside her car, was a boy – eighteen at least, twenty-one at oldest – with the most brilliant red hair she had ever seen. His skin was neither tan nor pale, but a comfortable middle, and she could barely make out the contours of his muscles through the tight, red shirt he wore, a perfect match of his red hair. He was tall, 6'3" at least, and slight, but not lanky. Almost streamline, almost, she nearly laughed at the thought, almost like a Lamborghini.

He offered her a soft, sad smile; his teeth white enough to nearly – nearly, as no one would be as beautiful as _him_ – leave her dazzled.

She blinked, and he was gone.

This went on for three weeks, well into January. She would take the Lamborghini to school, it offering its silent condolences in the form of a warm cab and a comfortable seat, perfect traction and easy brakes, and every night she would see him.

There were nights when she would decide to go up to him, to talk to him, but every time she made up her mind to go see him, she would stand up, begin to walk toward the door, and suddenly find herself so immensely, inexplicably, insanely _tired_ she would turn to the bed, figuring she could go see him the next day.

Then, one morning in late January, everything changed.

When she got into the cab, it was cold – frigid, even – and the seat was far too stiff for her spoiled back. The engine roared to life almost angrily. The stops and starts were sudden, jerking, rough, like the car was livid at something. 'It's mad at me,' she thought to herself worriedly.

'It's mad at me and I don't know why!' she mentally shrieked. 'What did I do to offend it? How could I have managed to – to – to –'

"What do you want from me?" she shouted at the steering wheel as she stopped at a traffic light on her way home from school.

The engine died, the car sitting, rooted to the spot. Bella gasped, worried she had offended it. Some small, sane part of her mind reminded her that cars do not have feelings, ergo they cannot be offended.

'And they most _definitely_ do not give you the silent treatment!' she thought, mentally prepping her for the ranting of Charlie that was sure to follow her telling him she had managed to kill a Lamborghini.

And then it _roared_.

The powerful engine of the 1977 Lamborghini Countach roared to life, startling Bella's hands off the wheel and foot off the break. It screamed down the street at a speed unheard of and pulled off into the forest, racing toward a place Bella had not been since _he_ left.

As it sped into the clearing, Bella's seatbelt unbuckled, her door popping open as the Lamborghini pulled a 180-degree turn, flinging her onto the soft grass and mud.

She went to stand up only to watch something so utterly impossible she felt it had to be real.

'You're not the creative, Bella,' came a reminder in her mind.

Her car – her beautiful red Lamborghini – stood up.

Gears whirred and metal shifted, snapping out and into place, wires being exposed for only a moment before disappearing under red plating. She looked up at its ('His? Hers? Do robots have genders?') face, a perfect, flawless white of straight lines and simplistic shapes that melded together to form an expression of something more than she could grasp. Two eyes, at least, that was what _she_ would call them, were glass behind which blue orbs, wires, computers, and a hundred other, unnamable things lay protected from the outside air. On its head were two wing-like protrusions that seemed to gleam just barely more than the rest of its body, which shone like a diamond, almost like –.

'No,' she pointedly thought. 'I won't think about him, not here. Not now.'

And then it spoke.

"Listen up, squishy, 'cause I'm only saying this once," it said in a voice like ice, harsh and threatening and terrifying and _real_. It was a voice befitting a killer, befitting… him.

"I don't like your planet. I don't like your people. I think you are a selfish bunch of slaggers who really need an ego deflation, but I'm loyal to my commander and my brother, if I'm nothing else. As such, seeing as he was assigned to be your guardian, and since he is not able to fulfill that directive at this moment, I will do everything in my power to protect you. As you may or may not know, we have been on your planet for the past four million years in a forced stasis – that's like a 'coma', incase you didn't know – and when we woke up, we found our enemies, the Decepticons, to be searching this planet for energy sources. You follow me so far?" it asked, Bella gazing dumbly at the tall figure.

She shook her head.

"_Primus_," it sighed, clearly exasperated. "Where to start?"

"Well," began Bella uncertainly, in a sort of trance. "you already know my name is Bella, what's yours?"

The look she received could only be described as the 'you really _are_ insane, aren't you' look.

It spoke.

"What is your species' obsession with names?"

Bella was taken aback by this question, but answered as best as she could, her voice not nearly as strong as she wanted it to be, "What are you talking about?"

It glared at her, growling, "Names! Everything must be named! And one name is not enough – oh, no – humans and their pets have multiple names! Do you realize there are over a dozen names for fragging _snow_ in one of your earthen languages? And the sayings to do with names go on and on! I claim this! I christen you! I call it! I shall be known as! My nickname is! Name this, name that, Primus! I'm amazed your species has been able to make the advances it has!"

Bella knew she should be afraid, but instead simply retorted, "Don't blow a gasket, Sparkles. I just figured it would be better to call you your name that to continuing to call you an 'it'."

At that point, she knew she had made a mistake. Its face hardened further, if it were possible, and a pistol the size of Charlie was suddenly pointed at her.

"My name is Sunstreaker, squishy. Not 'Sparkles'. You would be wise to remember that," it hissed, never moving more than its mouth.

Bella nodded dumbly and sighed with relief as the pistol disappeared to –

"Hey, where'd your gun go?" she asked brightly.

Sunstreaker gave her a look as if to say, 'you are a freaking idiot'.


	3. Hit The Brakes!

I no own, you no sue!

--

"So wait, let me get this straight. You and your twin brother are part of a super advanced species of alien robots – mechs – and you are warring against other alien mechs, called the Decepticons, for a magic cube that grants your people life? Okay, after everything I've been through, I'll buy that, but how are you twins if you don't reproduce sexually?"

The large being stared down at her angrily, eyes blazing in agitation as he muttered, "Primus, I'd squish you, but I just got my paint retouched."

"The Allspark," began Sunstreaker, voice betraying his annoyance, "is not a 'magic cube'. It is the spark of Primus, the creator of all Cybertronians, or people from my home world, Cybertron. When it creates a spark, or soul, as you would call it on Earth, a medic will build a protoform, or body, to house it. Over time, this protoform will be upgraded until it reaches around seven hundred thousand vorns old. That's when a Cybertronian reaches 'adulthood'. Before you ask, a vorn is approximately eighty-three Earth years. Sometimes, a part of a spark will not want to disconnect from Primus' spark. When this happens, which is extremely rare, the spark will split in half, forming 'twins'. My brother and I are essentially one person, but with two distinct personalities. Do you understand that, fleshling?"

"Okay, enough with the name-calling!" shouted Bella. "I'm not calling you, I dunno, Toaster Boy, am I?"

"Whatever," mumbled Sunstreaker.

"Okay, so I think I get that. But then, why are you here?" inquired Bella, feeling marginally better after screaming at the robot.

"I already told you," sighed Sunstreaker exasperatedly, "I'm filling in for my brother."

"Yes, I get that, but why? Why do you need to fill in? Why do I need protection in the first place?" Bella questioned.

Sunstreaker simply glared. Slowly, deliberately, he shifted back to the lithe, sleek Lamborghini he had been earlier, door popping open with a grumbled, "Get in."

A small voice in the back of her head, one that sounded unequivocally like _his_, warned her that it was a bad idea, that she could get hurt, that she should just walk home.

'But he isn't here,' she reminded herself, calmly climbing into the driver's seat.

And Sunstreaker drove away.

--

After nearly an hour passed in silence, Bella was beginning to get restless. Shifting around in her seat for the hundredth time, she found herself incapable of getting comfortable within the frighteningly beautiful mech. Letting out a small groan, she curled her back against the seat, sighing happily at the small series of pops that came from the motion.

"Don't _do_ that!" growled Sunstreaker, surging forward at a speed Bella didn't even want to think about.

"Do what?" she asked to distract herself from the growing nausea she felt at his speed, having the distinct notion that he would not appreciate having her throw up inside him.

"Whatever _that_ just was! Where your spinal column made those noises!" he barked, disgust dripping from his tone.

Bella grinned, feeling slightly mischievous, and replied simply, "Okay."

The inside of the radiant Lamborghini was silent for a moment.

_Pop! Snap! Crack! Pop!_

"Grah! I told you not to do that! It's disgusting!"

Bella giggled, retorting smugly, "You told me not to pop my back. I was popping my knuckles. There's a difference."

"Fine, do not _pop_ any portion of your infrastructure!" he shouted irately, and the cabin fell silent.

_P-P-P-P-Pop!! P-P-P-P-Pop!!_

"Son of a glitch!!! Flesh creature!!! What did I _just_ tell you? Slaggit! I swear to Primus above I am going to kill you!"

Bella barely managed to reign in a gout of laughter. She hadn't been this happy in… too long.

"But you just told me not to pop anything," she innocently answered. "I was cracking my neck."

If Sunstreaker could twitch, Bella had a feeling he would look like an epileptic.

"Cease making noise with your infrastructure," hissed the Lamborghini.

Silence...

_Thap! Tha-thap! Thap! Tha-tha-thap!_

"Fragging, slagging Primus's lug-nuts in the Pit!"

This time Bella had to laugh, but between gasps for air she managed to get out something to the effect of, "I was - _snort _- sn-snapping my - _kh-heh - _my fingers t-to a - _ch-ha-ha-eh-ah _- a good song!"

The car stopped.

Slowly, Bella regained some semblance of control, but what sobered her up completely was when Sunstreaker's voice filtered through the speakers, dark and foreboding.

Slowly, with a calmness that reminded her of the serial killers in horror movies, he intoned, "The next thing that snaps, cracks, or pops _on_ you is going to be snapped, cracked, or popped _off _of you, understood?"

Sunstreaker's engine revved in a blatant gloating of power as Bella sighed sadly and rested her elbow on the door, gazing absentmindedly out the window at the rushing foliage.

_'Alice would have laughed her pixie ass off at this.' _thought Bella sullenly, wishing she could see her sister.

She nearly snorted as she amended, _'She would have laughed her pixie ass off, then insisted we go shopping for _something_ that would commemorate my brilliant prank.'_

"If you get mucus on my interior, human, you _will_ regret the day your progenitors were born."

_'Geeze,' _thought Bella, glaring at the steering wheel. _'What crawled up his ass? Wait, does he even have an ass? Well, he is a ro- mech. He's a mech. Hmm… probably doesn't.' _Bella giggled as an image of giant toilet paper appeared in her mind.

_'Charmin Ultra _Magnus_! Soft and comfortable for mechs of all sizes!'_

Bella cackled madly before noticing the voice that filled the cabin.

"-sure you're not crazy? I've seen triple changers who are more mentally stable, and being crazy is practically a _requirement_ for being a triple," groused Sunstreaker.

Bella blinked oddly and asked, "What's a triple changer?"

An exasperated sigh wafted from the stereo, but Sunstreaker explained, "A triple changer is a mech who has two alternative vehicle - or alt - modes and one robot mode, so they can be three different things. Unfortunately this usually leads to processor - or brain - instability."

"Oh, okay," Bella nodded, understanding.

For a while, all was quiet, until Bella got bored.

"Hey, Sunstreaker?" she inquired, breaking the silence.

"Yes, fleshling?" he shot back, clearly still angry about her joke.

"Do you have an ass?"

The engine faltered, then...

"Why in the fragging pit would I want to keep a four-footed equine pack animal?"

Bella snorted, trying desperately not to laugh, and revised her question to, "No, I mean, do you, y'know, excrete wastes, er, or something like that?"

Sunstreaker scoffed, "_We_ are nowhere _near_ as inefficient in bodily waste management as you pathetic _organic _creatures. And would you _please_ stop shedding?"

"Shedding?" Bella nearly shouted, anger evident in the pitch of her shriek.

"Yes," answered Sunstreaker in a nonchalant tone. "You have been shedding long fur on my interior since this morning. I demand that you cease and desist this instant."

"I do _not _shed!" Bella screamed indignantly.

"Yes, you do. And it is making my interior itch," argued Sunstreaker.

Bella huffed angrily; glaring daggers at the dash board as she folded her arms over her chest and pouted in silent rage as they continued on to a destination unknown.

--

At some point, Bella wasn't sure quite when, her resolve had given way to her sleep-deprived brain's demands and she had drifted off, her head propped against the window and snoring softly as her dreams swirled around Edward.

What had woken her was, to her amazement, the soft, almost empathetic cooing of Sunstreaker.

"Hey, human, we're here. Wake up," he had murmured as she slowly clawed her way to the realm of waking life.

Bella's eyes fluttered open and she yawned widely, stretching her body to the sound of satisfying pops and snaps ('_Why isn't he bitching about the noise, now?' _she wondered.).

"You're awake," Sunstreaker stated, gruffness edging its way back into his tone.

"Um, yeah. Sorry for dosing off," she replied, rubbing her eyes.

"You talk in your sleep," he pointed out.

Bella blushed; opening her mouth to ask what she had said when she noticed they were driving dangerously quickly toward the edge of a lake.

"Sunstreaker, I _really _think you should stop! Like, _now_!" shouted Bella, pressing her foot madly against an unresponsive break pedal.

Instead of slowing down, the red Lamborghini accelerated, speeding to the dock's end.

In a last, ditch attempt to survive, Bella pulled the emergency brake.

Tires squealed, locking up as the Lamborghini continued off the dock's edge, Bella screaming all the way as water filled her field of vision.

Then, the world went black.


	4. Interlude Phone Calls

I own nothing.

--

_Rrrrrring! Rrrrrring! Rrrrrring! Rrrrrring!_

_"Hello! You've reached Bella Swan. I'm not answering my phone at the moment, but if you leave your name, number, and a message, I'll get back to you as soon as possible, thanks!"_

"Bella, this is Alice. I need you to call me back. Please, I know we aren't supposed to contact you, but I just had a vision of you driving off a dock. Please call me back."

--

_Rrrrrring! Rrrrrring! Rrrrrring! Rrrrrring!_

_"Hello! You've reached Bella Swan. I'm not answering my phone at the moment, but if you leave your name, number, and a message, I'll get back to you as soon as possible, thanks!"_

"Bella, this is Alice. Maybe you didn't get my message. I can't see you, I'm getting scared. Please call me back."

--

_Rrrrrring! Rrrrrring! Rrrrrring! Rrrrrring!_

_"Hello! You've reached Bella Swan. I'm not answering my phone at the moment, but if you leave your name, number, and a message, I'll get back to you as soon as possible, thanks!"_

"Alright, so maybe you don't have my number, and that's why you aren't calling. It's 779-242-4425 (Psych chick). Please call me back."

_--_

_Rrrrrring! Rrrrrring! Rrrrrring! Rrrrrring!_

_"Hello! You've reached Bella Swan. I'm not answering my phone at the moment, but if you leave your name, number, and a message, I'll get back to you as soon as possible, thanks!"_

"Okay, Bella, I know that you're mad at us. I understand that you probably don't want to hear from me, but at the very least text me so I know you're alive! I'm getting scared, Bella! I need to know you're okay! Please!"

_--_

_Rrrrrring! Rrrrrring! Rrrrrring! Rrrrrring!_

_"Hello! You've reached Bella Swan. I'm not answering my phone at the moment, but if you leave your name, number, and a message, I'll get back to you as soon as possible, thanks!"_

"I'm calling Edward after this. I got your dad and he said you ran away. I... I don't know where you are or even if you're alive, but I'm scared. Please, I'm begging you, Bella, go home. Don't be dead. Please don't be dead."

--

_Rrrrrring! Rrrrrring! Rrrrrring! Rrrrrring!_

_"Hello! You've reached Bella Swan. I'm not answering my phone at the moment, but if you leave your name, number, and a message, I'll get back to you as soon as possible, thanks!"_

"I told Edward. He's coming to Forks to look for you. We're going with him. I don't know what's going on, but I can't see anything in the town. It's like a huge blind spot. Bella, I'm fucking scared. Please, for the love of God, for Edward's sake, call me, call Charlie, call Jacob, call someone, I don't even care who, just let us know you're alive."

_--_

_Rrrrrring! Rrrrrring! Rrrrrring! Rrrrrring!_

_"Hello! You've reached Bella Swan. I'm not answering my phone at the moment, but if you leave your name, number, and a message, I'll get back to you as soon as possible, thanks!"_

"The authorities found your keys near the meadow. We found blood. Your blood. There's not much, but I guess you didn't get killed there. We can't find your scent. We can't track you. I guess... I should stop calling you. I guess you're dead. I'm sorry... I can't..."

--

R & R!!!


	5. Of Twins and Missed Messages

I own nothing.

--

"Frag! Slagging Primus' left lugnut in the firey pits of Unicron's Slagging internals! One cycle! One slagging cycle! You can't go one slagging cycle without getting yourself scrapped to the blue pits and back, can you? Do you _try _to get yourself slagged? Do you _enjoy_ getting your aft slagged? Primus, Sunstreaker, your breaks are only good for the scrap heap! If you had just informed the child of your intentions, she wouldn't have reacted that way and you wouldn't need to be in here, getting new shocks, breaks, and a rear axle! But, _noooooo_, the _amazing, invincible Sunstreaker _can't use his Primus damned vocalizer to warn the organic child so that she won't hurt herself or you!"

Of all the sounds Bella could have woken up to, the screaming of a voice, gruff and ancient and terrifying, had not been on her top ten most likely list.

Rubbing her eyes, she let out a small groan, sitting up as she noted the room had gone silent. She pulled her small hands away from her face and gasped as she noted the giant, silvery face of a red and white leviathan hovering over her. _'Oh, God, maybe I didn't dream that...'_

"Greetings, femme," it began in its archaic voice, reminding her of how Carlisle's voice had hugged every curve of sound. The main difference between them was that Carlisle's voice inspired trust, an unbreakable love of a child for their father. This being's voice inspired terror and respect and something bordering on awe.

"Hi," she replied lamely, giving a small wave. The gargantuan being, taller than even Sunstreaker, and definitely more sturdily built, looked momentarily confused, but if he was going to ask a question he decided against it, instead choosing to throw a wrench at -

'_Did Sunstreaker change his color?' _Bella thought to herself, looking at the yellow robot. _'Mech. Calling them robots insinuates that they have no consciousness. It insults them, so don't do it,' _she chided herself.

"Dammit, Ratchet, what the frag was that for?" shouted Sunstreaker, glaring at the red and white mech. _'So his name is Ratchet? Okay, that's cool.'_

"Stay still! If you re-break your axle I will _not_ fix it again!" came the terrifying voice.

_'Note to self; don't get on his bad side.'_

"Femme, Isabella Swan, welcome to the underwater Autobot base. You are currently in the medical bay. Please remain still while I run a scan of your body to check for injuries," instructed the red and white mech.

Bella nodded silently, slightly confused until a blue light passed over her body. The tall mech sighed, then turned to Sunstreaker, growling, "You're one lucky fragger, you know that? If she had been injured by your little stunt, it would have been your aft in the brig."

"What do you mean, _my _aft? _She _was the one who pulled the emergency break!" huffed Sunstreaker indignantly.

Ratchet glared, Bella felt herself shrinking in terror of those brilliant blue optics that glowed so brightly, so fiercely, she nearly tumbled over with the intensity of their stare. He rumbled, voice calm, taunting, even, "Because, _soldier_, _I_ am the chief medical officer of this army, whether or not _you_ acknowledge it, and if I _choose_ to punish you for your own stupidity, you _will _accept my word as law and you _will _accept your punishment as I decide it."

Bella gaped as Sunstreaker glared right back, a small part of her mind fearing a giant droid death match was about to break out, but the golden mech simply stood and strode out of the bay, an air of overwhelming ego following him.

"Geeze," commented Bella, gaining the attention of the CMO. "What's _his _problem?"

Ratchet sighed, replying, as if it would answer all questions, "He's a twin."

Bella cocked her head to the side, not understanding what he was talking about. "Pardon?"

Ratchet blinked twice, then seemed to realize his words had not been received as intended, and began again, "Sunstreaker is a twin, I thought he explained this to you."

Bella nodded, but mentioned, "Yeah, he's half a soul, right? And his brother is the other half. That I think I get, but what exactly does it mean?"

Ratchet shot a glare at the doors -- _'At Sunstreaker, probably'_ -- and continued, "Yes, that's right. They are two halves of the same spark. What that means is that they have what is called a spark bond. There are three types of bonds; mates; creator and creation; and twins. A twins' bond exists from creation and is unbreakable. Do you know what a spark bond is?"

Bella shook her head, rapidly becoming interested as Ratchet replied, "All right, then we'll start with the most basic type of bond: creator and creation. Now, when a mech or femme chooses to have a sparkling, they build a protoform, or infant body, and then they have two choices. They can either go to the All Spark and ask Primus for a spark, or they can cultivate one on their own. This is a highly controversial topic, as many bots see this as _playing God_. Anyway, if they cultivate on their own, it means they receive a data injection directly into their spark that will, over a time period of about three Earth year, eventually become a spark. Once this spark is placed into the protoform, the child, or sparkling, will seek the mech or femme -- that is, male or female -- whose spark pulses on the same frequency as their own. This sort of bond only exists with a creator who allowed their spark to house their child, and usually leads to a more stable personality in a mech. Through this sort of bond, emotions like calmness, happiness, and love can be sent across at will, but this bond can also be closed off at will if one or the other wishes to be alone with their emotions. It is the weakest of the three bonds as it is expected that the creation will outlive the creator. When either creator or creation dies, there is a 89 percent survival rate.

"Next, there are mates' bonds. A mate is one with whom a mech or femme has synchronized their spark so that they operate on the same pulses -- they beat at the same time. This melds their minds, in a sense, and means that they can read each other's thoughts no matter how far apart they are. These bonds can be closed off, but it is painful for the people on both sides of the bond. It works something like a continual call, one side calling 'are you there?' and the other side answering 'I am here.' So that they have almost constant contact. When one side of the bond is closed off, it's akin to losing a limb for both sides. It's a spot that should be filled, but isn't. As far as we know, there is no limit to the number of bots who can share one of these bonds. They are slightly more urgent bonds, as it is expected that neither bond mate will outlive the other by more than several million Earth years. Also, the rate of survival increases in direct proportion with the number of bots involved in the bond. With a two-bot bond, the rate of one mate surviving the other is about 48 percent, three-bot where one mate dies is 69 percent, four-bot where one mate dies is 84 percent, and so on. Of course, it also works the other way around. Where if one mate dies in a two-bot bond, there's a 48 percent chance of survival for the other, in a three-bot bond, if two die, there's only a 32 percent chance of survival for the third mate. Of course, as far as we know, it bottoms out at about 20 percent survival chance, never gets less than that.

"Finally, there are twin bonds. Twins are a rare mutation, so there's not much data to go by, but basically they are one person in two bodies. What happens with twins is-"

Bella interjected, feeling momentarily brilliant, "One side doesn't want to leave either the creator's spark or the All Spark, so the spark splits in half and forms twins, right?"

Ratchet smiled in an almost paternal fashion as he answered, "Correct. The half that was willing to leave is commonly more outgoing and easier to get along with, while the half that didn't want to leave is... less socially inclined. Usually, they will have the same gender, but there was one case where there was one mech and one femme. In a twin's bond, there are no secrets. From creation to death, their thoughts, emotions, and even physical sensations are shared. For example, if Sunstreaker's plating itched, so would Sideswipe's. In your culture, I understand that this would be considered incest, but due to the nature of twins, they have no choice but to be spark mates. In the rare case that one loves someone other than their twin, the other twin will naturally feel the same attraction. They are a package deal in a bond because a bot can't bond to half a spark. These are the strongest of all bonds, and the only way they can be blocked is through aeons of practice, trial, error, and correction. Sunstreaker and Sideswipe, being the oldest twins in existence, have this and are able to block each other, which is useful in battle because they are front line warriors and because they usually get injured. Anyway, the rate of survival if one twin dies is, barring a miracle, nonexistent. One half of a spark cannot exist without the other half. They cannot live without each other, which leads me to why Sunstreaker is so upset right now. You see, we are in the midst of a war with the Decepticons. That you know, correct? Anyway, Sunstreaker's twin, Sideswipe has been captured by the Decepticons and he is blocking his half of the bond from Sunstreaker. We think it's because he is being... interrogated."

Bella didn't fail to notice the slump in Ratchet's metallic shoulders, or the saddened look in his piercing optics, and corrected, "You mean you think they're torturing him?"

It wasn't a question, and Ratchet didn't need to answer.

Bella stood, noting in the back of her head that she was some fifteen feet off the ground on the metallic table top. _'It looks like an examination table.'_

She walked toward the red and white bot, whose crimson hand rested on the edge of the table, and placed one, tiny hand on his, looking up at him with soft eyes as she murmured, "It'll be okay, somehow."

Ratchet gave her a small, saddened smile and something clicked in Bella's mind. The way he spoke of the twins, the venom in his voice when he mentioned the people who would consider creating a child on their own a sin, the way his eyes expressed a love deeper that most she had know, _'the way he spoke to Sunstreaker, like my father -- That's it! He's their-'_

"You're their creator, aren't you?" Bella surmised.

Ratchet looked momentarily shocked, before stating, "You're very perceptive for a human."

Bella smiled sadly, remembering one who had said something similar about her.

The moment was shattered as her phone vibrated in her pocket, warning her of low battery.

Bella flipped it open to see -- _'What? Seven voice messages? How-? Holy crow! Is that really the date?'_

"How long have I been out for?" she queried.

Ratchet gave her a curious look, but responded, "Five Earth cycles."

_'Five Days,'_ Bellamentally translated, eyes enlarging in her skull as she thought of Charlie, who would no doubt have SWAT teams out searching for her by now. _'And Renee-'_

She didn't even want to think of what her mother was doing.

Pressing the button to listen to her messages, she held the phone up to her ear and the recordings began, "You have seven new messages. Message one..."

Ten minutes later, Bella listened to the last of the messages from Alice. Two minutes after that, she dropped her new cell phone onto the table, shattering it instantly. Three minutes after that she finally became aware of the shouting of- _'Who are they? When did they get here?'_

Three mechs now stood around her, shouting for her to respond. One she recognized as Ratchet, kneeling beside the table, screaming something about a sedative and dangerously high heart rates. To his right was a red, white, and green mech. A mask covered his mouth and nose, and when he spoke, two dark blue fins on either side of his head would light up the same brilliant blue as his optics. The third was by far the tallest, brawniest of the three. His speech patterns were similar to those of a two-year-old's, his paint was blue, yellow, and red, and white wings protruded from his back. An odd, red... thing on his head reminded her of an elf's hat, and a yellow half-cone on his chest was reminiscent of a bird's beak.

_'I should probably let them know I'm okay.'_

_'But am I okay? I need to call Alice, let her know I'm alive, that I was taken by aliens because-'_

"Why do I need to be here?" Bella's sudden inquiry startled the three mechs, and looks of collective relief were apparent on their faces as the red, white, and green one spoke, "You're here because the Decepticons want to get a hold of you to hold you for ransom in exchange for one of the super-beings you associate with. Fascinating creatures, actually. I'd love to get a chance to examine-"

"Wheeljack, kindly keep your personal comments to yourself, thank you very much," threatened Ratchet, brandishing a wrench that suddenly seemed to be a doomsday device in the hands of the irritable medic.

Wheeljack's head fins flashed pink in embarrassment as he mumbled, "I only meant examine with scans. Nothing too intrusive."

The third one seemed to ignore this conversation for a different thought train and inquired in a shrill voice, "Why them Decepticons want them Earth creatures? What they Earthlings have that they Decepticons don't?"

Ratchet and Wheeljack shared a look, then simultaneously replied in a manner that conveyed the full urgency and terror hidden in those two words, "A virus."


	6. Falling Apart and Coming Together

I own nothing.

--

Alice led the Cullens deeper into the woods, racing in the direction her vision had gone, trying to keep her thoughts optimistic for the sake of her brother. She knew he was ready to call upon the Volturi. She knew that, if they found Bella there, at the bottom of the lake, there would be no stopping him. She knew that the chances were slim to none that she would be okay, or, at the least, alive. She knew all that, but it didn't keep her from hoping against all hope and logic that her sister would be okay.

Edward was calmer than most would believe. There was no inner struggle going on. If she was alive, he would beg her for forgiveness and protect her for the rest of her life. If she had died, so would he. It was as simple as that. It just wasn't in him to stay away from her any longer.

Absentmindedly, he checked the thoughts of his family. Carlisle was sending him only reassuring thoughts that Alice didn't know if the vision was true or not. Esme and Alice were trying not to break down. Rosalie was cursing up a storm, self-hatred permeating every thought as she prayed that, for the sake of their family, Bella would be okay. She only wanted her family back; she didn't actually care about the human. At least, that was what she told herself. Emmet was easy. Even if he couldn't read their minds, he would recognize the longing on his face. He wanted his sister back.

And then there was Jasper.

Never before had Edward been unable to get words out of his mind, but now there was only darkness and hatred and pity and anger and too many other things to be able to understand them all.

And then they were at the lake.

All at once, they leapt into the water, swimming frantically for the bottom of the lake, perfect eyes bulging at the sight of a massive, metallic... thing.

Almost as one, they all thought, _'A space ship?'_

_--_

"A virus?" questioned Bella, wondering at the way the words rolled off her tongue and into the air of the enormous medical bay.

"Yes, an ancient virus of Cybertronian origin. We had thought it had gone extinct, but when we rechecked our records, we found that a mech by the name of Skyfire, an explorer from the Cybertron Academy of Medicine and Science, was a carrier of this virus. He disappeared nearly four billion Earth years ago. Supposedly, the magnetic interference from the poles of Earth caused him to crash land on this planet, where he went offline. The virus, seeking a suitable vessel to contain it, spurred the evolution of humans so that it could spread to your species," explained Ratchet calmly as Bella nearly went crazy hyperventilating.

Shaking in fear, rage, tiredness, too many things to name, Bella asked the most prominent question her mind could formulate.

"What does it do?"

Wheeljack stepped into the conversation, enthusiastically elucidating, "Well, you see, that's the interesting thing! It's only a virus because it's contagious. In all reality, it only helps the carrier. Increased speed, strength, agility, stamina, all sensors, and processor capacity, not to mention the physical aspects, the beauty that followed those who possessed the virus. The only reason it didn't spread very well was because it took nearly thirteen Earth days to complete the transformation, and it was an excruciating experience."

Bella sighed in relief, plopping down on her bottom, dangling her legs over the edge of the table as she queried, "So, just to be sure we're on the same page, we are talking about the vampires, right?"

Ratchet nodded, "Yes, that is what they are called on your planet. Although, it would seem the virus has evolved to suit your species needs. It increases life span exponentially, alters physical appearance differently than it did on Cybertron, and cancels out certain needs, such as oxygen and Earth foods."

"Wait," began Bella, wondering about the most important aspect of Vampirism. "What about drinking blood?"

"Well," continued Wheeljack, head fins flashing. "It's not the blood itself they drink, but the plasma. The rest of the blood is surplus and just takes up extra room in their bodies until it can be released from the body via the pores. I wouldn't be surprised to find out that it leaves the vampires feeling fairly bloated. In actuality, it's just because the plasma in blood is the closest thing to energon that is produced by organics on your planet, so their systems settle for the plasma. Y'see, energon is the liquid format for energy. Energy is like water in that it has three forms, its gaseous form, harmless, it exists everywhere there is motion, its solid form, which we use for weapons, like our leader, Optimus Prime, has a sword made of solid energon. Its blade never dulls and is thin enough to turn a piece of 8" by 11" paper into two, identical 8" by 11" pieces. Then, there's the liquid form. That's energon. That's what all Cybertronians run off of. That's what their bodies crave, which would, I don't doubt, lead to a very uncomfortable, constant burning in their throats."

Bella nodded in understanding. If she ever saw Edward again, she would have to tell him this. And Carlisle would love to hear it. And Alice-

"Would the Decepticons go after my friends if they were unable to get me?"

The question caught the mechs off guard, but the tall, beaked mech replied with a snort, "You human stupid. You not know them Decepticons never give up. Of course them Decepticons go after them vampires!"

And as the small part of her that had managed to keep her calm throughout her discussion with the aliens finally gave way, the ground came speeding toward her as she realized she had fallen off the table. In her absolute terror, Bella screamed, "Edward!"

--

Edward listened for any thoughts on the ship, but mentioned to the others standing on the shore with him that he couldn't hear anything.

"I can," Jasper started. "I can't _hear_ anything, but I can feel someone on the ship. There's only one. I... I think... I think it might just be Bella, but I'm not sure. She's confused about... something..."

Alice leapt up off the rock she had been seated on and shouted, "Then what are we waiting for? Let's get her out of that tin can!"

"Wait!" shouted Carlisle, the voice of reason.

All eyes were on him as he began, "Alice, can you see anything about her?"

She shook her head.

"Then we need to be careful. Is your phone alright, Rosalie?"

A nod.

"Good," replied Carlisle. "Then I'll go down with Edward and Esme. If anything goes wrong, we'll call you and you can come down to help, alright?"

Collective nodding.

The three vampires dove into the water, reaching the ship quickly and slipping in through a porthole they managed to get open and closed.

Once they were in, though, the trouble began. The hallway they entered was empty except for double doors at either end, one side with strange markings overhead, white on a green screen.

Carlisle sighed, "I can't read the writing, but I'd recognize that set up anywhere. It's a medical bay."

Esme walked over, taking Carlisle's hand in her own, giving him a silent, reassuring smile.

Edward's eyes widened as a scent familiar as his own family's hit him, venom seeping into his dry mouth, spurring him to the doors. With a hiss, they began to slide apart as a cry hit his ears.

"Edward!"

He did not think. He did not see the three giants whose gazes fell to him as he sped to the rescue of the falling female. Leaping in the air, a warm, familiar form landed safely in his arms, silencing her scream as he gracefully landed on the floor. He fell to his knees, gazing into wide doe eyes as he shook.

Tears began to form in her eyes and he pulled her against his chest as she wrapped her thin arms (_'Thinner that I remember. Has she been eating?'_) around his strong frame, crying softly against his soaking shirt.

They would have happily stayed like that had the gasps of Esme and Carlisle not pulled their attention to the tall bots looming overhead.

Bella managed to struggle just enough to sit up in Edward's arms, gesturing to the tall, red and white bot she spoke almost too calmly, given the situation, "So, while you guys were gone, I fell in with a new, non-existent group: aliens. This bot's name is Ratchet and he the Chief Medical Officer. The red, white, and green guy's name is Wheeljack and he's, um..."

"Chief engineer," filled in Wheeljack. "And this is Swoop, our newest Medic."

"Right, Swoop," Bella repeated, nodding dumbly as she realized just how tall they really were. _'Must be at least thirty feet tall.'_

"They won't hurt anyone. They're the good guys," assured Bella, glancing at Carlisle and Esme.

Edward simply stared as Bella stood from his arms and walked forward toward Ratchet.

Stopping at his toes, she asked for a bucket.

"What do you need a bucket for?" he inquired, handing her the requested item.

The use became apparent as she fell to her knees, vomiting into the human-sized container before setting it neatly down, wiping her mouth on the sleeve of her sweatshirt, and fainting on the spot.

"Well," commented Wheeljack, staring wide-opticked at the passed out human, watching as the male that had saved her cradled her against his chest once again, apologizing over and over. "That could quite possibly have been the best species introduction we've ever gotten, eh, Ratch?"

"Shut up, Wheeljack," replied the medic, stepping back to give the organics room to take care of their own. The female and her mate raced over to the human and examined her thoroughly. Meanwhile, Ratchet pushed Wheeljack and Swoop out the med bay doors and sent a message to all on the ship that unless someone was dying, the med bay was off limits to anyone who did not _want_ to die.

Turning to look at the Earthly display of care, Ratchet walked over to a chair and seated himself to watch over the Earthlings.

When they finally stopped fretting over the girl, the blond-haired man stood and looked to Ratchet, seemingly debating how to begin a conversation.

"My name is Carlisle Cullen. This is my wife, Esme, and our son, Edward. Your name was Ratchet, am I right?" he questioned.

Ratchet frowned. Edward was the name he had heard fall from the girl's lips many times, usually in a plead to stay, a promise that she did love him, a question as to whether he loved her. _'He hurt her,' he_ thought as he answered gruffly, "Still is. That your kid, too? The femme?"

"Femme?"

"Human girl, femme, female child, whatever. She yours?"

"She is not my daughter, but she does have a connection with us."

"Hn, you mean did. She did have a connection with that boy, didn't she? And he hurt her, didn't he?"

"..."

"And, to make things even better, thanks to his little stunt, the entirety of the Decepticon Army is now after her, meaning she can't go home because they're waiting for her there."

"What? What are you talking about?"

The conversation halted as all eyes and optics were on Edward, watching the sorrow on his face.

"What do you think, boy? The Decepticons want you and your family. They plan on capturing the girl to use as bait. They were just waiting for a moment when she would be unguarded, which you gave them the minute you all left her. Thanks to your little proclamation, one of our best soldiers was captured by the Decepticons while protecting her from being kidnapped!" by the end of the rant, Ratchet was shouting at the boy. He huffed air into his intakes, sighing angrily as he prepared to continue his tirade.

_RRRRRAAAAAaaaaaaawwwwww! RRRRRAAAAAaaaaaaawwwwww!_

The crying klaxons tore all dark gazes from living beings and placed them on the angry red lights.

"Warning!" came a voice from over speakers. "Decepticon attacking .17 miles east of the base! This is not a drill! Repeat, this is not a drill!"

And Ratchet was off, tearing through the medical bay, tossing items deftly into cabinets and onto shelves, shuffling random wires, nuts, and bolts into boxes and throwing them onto surfaces that even the frighteningly large bot had to stand on tip toe to reach.

"Earthlings," he began, holding out an enormous black hand to them. "Get on. I need you out of the way when casualties come in. I can't have you being stepped on."

Edward shook his head in defiance, gripping Bella's prone body closer to his chest as he dared to ask, "What are you? What do you want with my Bella?"

Ratchet's glare intensified, Carlisle and Esme fearing for Edward's safety momentarily before the medic's expression became resigned. Grumbling something to the effect of, 'Dammit, Ratchet, you're getting too soft,' he sighed, "Listen, I know this is happening faster than you're comfortable, but as soon as I know none of our mechs are falling over, offline, I will explain everything, alright?"

Edward looked ready to fight, but Carlisle placed a hand on his son's shoulder, thinking, _'Son, he's a medic. Let him do his job and then we can ask questions, alright?'_

Growling lightly, Edward conceded, stepping onto Ratchet's palm only to be followed by a nervous Esme and Carlisle.

Ratchet did not fail to notice the silent discussion that took place between the Earthlings, also noting a sudden increase of... _'Is that spark energy coming from the Earthling?'_

Gently moving the group over to a cluttered tabletop, Ratchet stood by the doors, ready for the first of the casualties.


	7. Alien Beauty

I own nothing. I know it's been forever since I last updated, but in my defense, my dog, Totoro, whom I've had since I was 2-years-old, died. Thusly, there will be a darker undertone to these next few chapters. I hope people remember to review, because I guarantee you that the more reviews per fave/alert I receive, the faster these updates will appear. Currently, my story stats are as follows:

Hits: 944

Faves/Alerts : 30

Reviews: 11

--

Alice paced furiously back and forth as she waited for a vision, a call, _anything _to let her know about Bella. Jasper sent soft waves of calming energy to his erratic wife in an attempt to sate her frazzled nerves. Getting uppity would do no one any good. Rosalie sat on a stone beside Emmet, letting him run powerful fingers through her flawless hair, the motion soothing to her, and she knew that he kept calm easiest by helping her.

They continued like that for nearly ten minutes before Alice threw her arms in the air and shouted in frustration, "I can't take this! Rosalie, could you call Carlisle and at least let us know if Bella's alive?"

Rosalie, staying calm, replied, "And what if they're trying to sneak her out? If his cellphone goes off, that plan won't work very well."

"I don't care! I want my sister back! I want Edward to stop moping! I want Jasper to talk to me! I want Emmet to be funny again! I want things to go back to normal!" she cried out in turn.

Rosalie looked like she was going to respond when a loud _'FWA-AAW!" _sliced through the air and a black and purple F-15 Eagle appeared from a swirling cobalt, violet, rose, and ivory vortex in the air. The jet shot straight up in to the sky above, then dove down toward the lake, the four vampires standing to watch the entire structure break apart and shift.

In a matter of seconds, the cockpit and nose of the jet folded over, allowing out an onyx helm framing a silvery-white face with two piercing red optics gazing menacingly out at the teenage seniors. Two wings jutted from its back, shimmering black with a purple stripe on each, and a single, meticulously centered purple face on either wing, simplistic, elegant design evident even from afar. The being's build was vaguely human-like, in that its form was bipedal, legs about two-thirds of its height, torso and helm the other third. Arms that formed from various components in its jet mode pointed two deadly blasters at the group, and its perfect bi-symmetry led them to believe it was not of Earth.

It smirked, revealing two flat-toothed gears laying horizontally atop each other, and as it spoke, they twirled in opposite directions, its 'lips' moving in time with the words, and they noted two smaller, sharp-toothed belts met to form hard consonants, the gears allowing soft sounds, and so it seemed almost as though it was the victim of the bad dubbing of a Japanese T.V. show gone English.

"Ah, you must be the Infected. Megatron will be so pleased to see you. Heh, the feeling may not be reciprocated immediately, but I'm sure, in time, you'll learn to appreciate it. Or not," it announced nonchalantly, approaching the group, its voice rough, bits and parts in its 'mouth' clicking and whirring and hissing as it ventilated and verbalized its sentences, as if it were not made for speaking Earthen languages.

The four shared looks of uncertainty before Jasper called out, "What do you want?"

The creature laughed, a horrendous sound like oil as it boiled and metal grinding against itself, and replied, "Only to serve my Lord Megatron."

"What does that have to do with us?" inquired Alice, trying to stall it for long enough that the rest of her family could get out of that ship.

It glowered down at them and growled, "That is for _me _to know, as _I_ will be the one asking the questions, fleshling!"

Firing two shots aimed to set the trees behind them ablaze, the creature swooped down to scoop them up when a blast of blue light suddenly hit its side and, with an utterly inhuman, primal howl of rage, it took off, disappearing back through the portal it came through.

A Lamborghini screeched to a halt before them, its two doors flinging themselves open as he proclaimed, "If you want to see the others, get in."

Alice was in the car before he had finished the sentence, Jasper not far behind as they pressed together in the back seat. Rosalie looked dubious when Emmet tried to lead them to the passenger and driver seats. The male looked at her, holding her hands in his, and asked, "Rose, this thing just saved our lives. If it says it can take us to our family, I'm gonna trust it. Besides, fifty years from now, when you're looking back at this, don't you want to be able to say you had the guts to get in the car?"

"Don't touch anything," it ordered as Rosalie closed the driver's side door, Emmet seated to her right. "I'm going to drive into the water. Don't mess with my braking system."

The four remained silent, nodding as the Lamborghini sped into the lake's cool waters, effortlessly making its way to the ship below.

Upon reaching the metallic behemoth, a set of doors slid open, allowing them to glide smoothly to the floor of a grey room. The doors of the ship closed and the water raced from the room around them before another set of doors parted, permitting the sports car to zip through them and head down one straight hallway after another, making its way to a destination unknown to its occupants.

Arriving at a final set of doors, they entered what could only have been a medical bay.

"Get out," ordered the voice of the vehicle, the vampires swiftly complying.

The Lamborghini stood, glancing around the bay until his frighteningly blue optics settled on another giant, this one red, white, and boxy. He approached the mech and simply stated, "Skywarp. I'm going to take a stasis nap. Don't wake me."

The golden mech exited and the red and white one wrote furiously on a clipboard like object. Several minutes passed, and finally Emmet queried, "What's going on? He said our family's here. Where are they?"

The latter question was answered almost instantly as Carlisle peeked over the edge of a tabletop. Motioning for the children to join him, they leapt onto the surface as the mechanical leviathan murmured, "Fascinating,"

Approaching the group that stood, huddled about the sleeping human, Ratchet introduced himself and began to explain as the Earthlings listened in rapt attention, nodding and making observations and asking questions that were patiently and thoroughly answered.

Noting how interested they all were in the explanations his bond mate gave, Wheeljack deemed it a good idea to simply stand back and watch. After all, it wasn't every day he saw Ratchet happy. Especially without Sideswipe...

--

[Somewhere at the Bottom of the Atlantic, Six Days Earlier]

The room was simple and tasteful, sparsely furnished save for an elegant, classical recharging berth, a large desk with carved, iron-like shelves, and a grey chair whose third wheel was notoriously misaligned just enough to toss whomever happened to attempt to swiftly turn the chair forward in a most undignified manner.

That was not out of the ordinary, but the beings upon the berth most certainly were.

Purple and Silver, Silver and Purple, they writhed in an impassioned mockery of a kiss, for Purple lacked a mouth to kiss with, rather possessing a single, brilliant amber bulb in the center of a black rectangle, elongated horizontally out of all Earthly proportions. Silver seemed to care very little for this fact, instead taking the bulb between devastatingly deadly rows of razors, carefully wrapping it in a long, tapered glossa to taste the warmth it radiated.

"_Megatron_," groaned Purple in a language older than Earth, archaic syllables heard and seen on a spectrum outside any the inhabitants of the planet they were currently stranded on had even thought of, his vision going black as the inside of his master's mouth was all that he could see.

"Shockwave, by Primus, you are lovely," replied Megatron, echoing the language, his tone displaying of all his knowledge of his omnipotence and omniscience. His body was utterly alien, sharp angles crafting a face seen only in the nightmares of children of war. The shadows that ran along his form twisted and bent, light seeping into crevices and splaying across wires and technology perfectly crafted.

Shockwave admired his master's beauty, for that was, undeniably, what it was. Beauty and perfection and wrath and _lust_. His master, the dark god, the cruel harbinger of death to immortals, and, so often, his lover. Shockwave, though by no means ugly, could never begin to be as spark-wrenchingly beautiful as his master.

Megatron released Shockwave's bulb from between his teeth - (_'Those teeth,' _thought Shockwave. _'They could kill me in an instant, and instead, they bestow pleasure. By Primus, he is terrifyingly wonderous.'_) - and sought to trail his glossa down his counterpart's neck when -

_Beep!_

Megatron froze. Swiftly removing himself from where Shockwave lay on his berth, Megatron pressed a button on the wall and ground out, "_What _is _so _important as to merit ignoring my command that _I. Am. Not. To. Be. Bothered?_"

The voice on the other end was high in pitch and scarred his already sensitive audios as it replied mockingly, "We have a prisoner. An Autobot. I thought you might like to have a word with him, oh _Mighty _Megatron."

Tossing Shockwave an apathetic look (_'It's over for now. Duty always comes first. Damn that Starscream and his timing,'_ groused Shockwave), Megatron answered, "Put him in the brig. Then, return to patrol. I will see to him, myself, Starscream."

Megatron beckoned Shockwave to follow him, the purple mech following his master down to the brig of their base.

Reaching the containment cells, Megatron was pleased to note the lack of any other mech. Approaching the first cell, he found a red mech chained, spread eagle, to both the ceiling and the floor in the middle of the barren room, mouth gagged, blindfolded, and, apparently, unconscious.

"Well, Shockwave, perhaps we should welcome the Autobot to his new home. After all, he'll be staying here for a long, long time."

Shockwave nodded and they entered the cell.

--

The first thing Sideswipe was aware of was the fact that he couldn't see. That bothered him enough, but then he noted he also was unable to speak, to do more than scream, around the gag in his mouth.

Next, he noticed the coolness of the air around him and, as he ran diagnoses, deduced that this was from his lack of armor, leaving only sensitive alloys and wires exposed.

Finally, he realized that he couldn't move. He was chained in such a _vulnerable_ position, he shivered involuntarily.

"Looks like our prisoner is waking," announced a voice to his right. It continued, "If you bother to check, you'll see that both your weapons systems and your communications abilities are disabled. You cannot move. You cannot speak. You cannot even _see_. There is no escape, Sideswipe. Welcome to hell."


	8. Really Bad Pickup Lines

Sorry about the huge hiatus. I'd like to thank everyone who's waited so patiently for an update, but it's been tough to find time. Test week plus new puppy plus Speech tournaments equals long hiatuses. Oi! But, aside from that, things should be getting more frequent, and I'll try to get more updates in, but I'm not sure how often these things will show up. Anyway, enjoy crazy, Gonna-Get-Hit-Over-The-Helm-With-Prowl's-Favorite-Cooking-Pot Jazz!

--

[Autobot Headquarters, Six Days (and one annoyed medic) Later]

"Fuck me if I'm wrong, but do you want to fuck me?"

Bella's eyes shot open at the rude question, looking up to see a tall, black and white mech standing beside the tabletop upon which she was laid. His optics were covered by a visor (_'Same shade of blue as their eyes, so why wear it?'_) and a blue stripe went down his chest (_'Is that what it's called? Chest? Or something else? What was that car term, again? Chaser? Casting?'_) where a white number '4' sat atop a red, serious face (_'Why do they all have that? Is it a cult symbol or something?'_). Bella instantly recognized his alternative mode. Alice had been blathering on about how much she'd wanted one for nearly a month before she - _'A Porsche. He's a Porsche.'_

"Jazz, that was hardly necessary," came a voice stoic enough to fit the symbol. Another black and white mech (_'Nissan? Maybe? Definitely a Police Cruiser.'_) stood to Jazz's left, gaze piercing and stern. He _looked_ like a military bot, strict and harsh. To Jazz's right stood Ratchet, nodding faintly in agreement with Military's comment.

"'Ey, Prowler, ease up! It got 'er ta wake up, di'n' it?" Prowler? Odd, but it sort of fit.

"Officer Jazz, need I remind you that my name is not _Prowler_, not is it Prowl_ie_, Prowl_ster_, or The Prowlinator. My designation is, and shall remain, _Prowl_, and I would thank you to remember it correctly. Or does Ratchet need to check your cranial circuits?" Wow. So, not Prowler, then?

And then Edward was there.

He was holding her hands, and talking to her in that voice that made her tremble like she could die if he stopped talking, and the room was spinning, and Jazz and Prowl were kissing, and she didn't notice a damn thing -

_'Wait! Jazz? And Prowl? Are kissing? But- but- but-'_

"Bella? Bella, are you alright?"

"Huh?" she asked, clueless, staring into Edward's eyes.

"I'm still asleep, aren't I? And late for dinner, I guess?"

A worried look passed over Edward's face, which he quickly sought to hide, jesting, "I know I could pass as a fairly frightening nightmare, but you've got to believe me, you're really in an alien spaceship."

"No," replied Bella, drawing the attention of the other six Cullens and the three robots. Her voice rose as she spoke, hysteria taking its toll, "No, I don't believe you. I'm not on an alien spaceship, you're not really here, and the boy in red died! I died! I got in a car crash today on my way to school and I either died, or got so torn up that I'm on enough morphine to make me _think_ I'm dead!"

Silence permeated the room as her tirade ended, only to be broken as Jazz calmly soothed, "Babe, you're not dead, or torn up. Your body's been in shock for nearly a week. You're worn out's what's wrong. I know y'ain't gonna believe me, I figure ya'd rather think you're dead'n face the truth right now, but this really is Earth, 'n you're really here."

"Bella," breathed Edward, and suddenly, as though reaching the breaking point of all the hell she'd been through that week, Bella saw red.

"You left me! You left me, and aliens tried to kill me! You left me for dead, and aliens tried to kill me! And now, now that I'm safe, now that there's a place you can be where the Decepticons can't get you, you show up, trying to make things better? Like you think these past months are just gonna disappear? Well, I've got news for you! I have been thrown out of my own car, nearly squished, partaken in some bizarro alien-style water suicide attempt, been abducted, and nearly fallen to my death, and if you think, for one moment, that you being here, now, is gonna change a thing, you're fragging wrong!" she shouted, panting wildly as she finished her speech, glaring at Edward with all the power in her meek, human body.

Edward seemed rooted to the spot, staring incredulously at the girl he had left.

"Carlisle?" Bella began, turning to face the doctor. "Has Ratchet told you about the virus and Decepticons?"

The doctor nodded, approaching Bella with a guilty look on his face as he replied, "We didn't know this would happen, Bella. We never would have left if-"

"If what?" she shrieked, adrenaline pumping furiously through her veins. It felt so good, so wonderfully freeing, to just snap and scream and yell all the wrongs committed against her, as if she were the only important being in the universe, utterly selfish and loving it. "If you had known that the poor, pathetic human would become a basket case? Get to watch as her own father threw doctor after doctor out of the house because each one told him the same thing? That his daughter, his only daughter, was gone? Mentally dead? Catatonic? Or is it you never would have left if you knew that, because you left, Decepticons are now actively seeking to take you and your family hostage for alien experimentation? Is that why? Because as far as _I_ have been told, _you_ all knew that leaving would kill me, so I can only assume you meant the second! And don't try to act like you all care, now! If you cared, you wouldn't have left me, all alone, to rot! And you know what? I did," she sighed, dropping her gaze to the floor as she could not bear to see the sorrow in Carlisle's, Esme's, Alice's, Jasper's, Emmett's, or even Rosalie's eyes. They knew they were guilty. So, in hopes of keeping her nerve up, Bella glared at the floor.

"I rotted for nearly two and a half months. I rotted from the inside out, and, in the end, the only thing that kept me going was the boy in red. And, if I'm right, he's been captured. Sideswipe has been captured. The only person, outside of my family, who stayed with me was taken captive by Decepticons because none of you were brave enough to stand up to Edward. I can't talk to you. I won't try. I'm not gonna tell the Decepticons anything, and I can't make you leave, but, from now on, you're all dead to me. For real, this time," Bella finished, glancing over at Ratchet and murmuring, "Is there anything to eat on this ship?"

The medic glared at each of the Cullens, his accusing gaze lingering on Edward for a moment, taking in the way he sat, hunched over, head in his hands, not breathing, not blinking, doing nothing, and thought, _'Serves him right.'_ Holding out his hand, he replied, "Wheeljack's been working on that, along with your quarters. Unfortunately, due to spacial issues, you'll have to share a room with them. However, we can separate your bunks if you wish."

Bella nodded and thanked him, telling Ratchet that was fine, and Carlisle piped up, "She should at least have a human doctor present, if only to insure that she doesn't get injured. May I go with her?"

Ratchet sighed, but allowed the two Earthlings onto his palm, then, with an order to the others to stay in the Med Bay and out of trouble, exited into a substantially smaller room. Reaching a platform that was the size of the first floor of the Cullen house and sat about fifteen feet off the ground, Ratchet released the two.

Bella noted several terrestrial objects, including four king-sized beds with plain, white sheets, two pillows per bed with white, cotton slips, an orange love seat, two red, two-person couches, a glass coffee table, and two small lamp tables on either side of the sofas. Then, there were alien-looking devices. One was a steel orb that seemed to levitate nearly two and a half meters off the ground (_'Magnets,' _thought Bella, getting a closer look.) and the other was a chair of sorts, with a hole in the seat.

_'Oh, God,'_ thought Bella, flushing brilliant red. _'That had better not be what I think it is.'_

"Ratchet?" she queried hesitantly, garnering the medic's full attention. "What are _those_ for?"

"Oh? The sphere is for washing and the seat is for you biological waste products. Why do you ask?" responded Ratchet, cocking his head to the side.

"Humans prefer privacy for both of those, um, functions. Ratchet, is there any way to get curtains around them, or something?" Bella explained, blushing furiously.

Ratchet's gaze hardened slightly, but he conceded, stating that Wheeljack was already on it.

"How do you know?"

"What do you mean, 'how do I know'?" inquired Ratchet.

"I mean, how do you know he's working on it?" clarified Bella, glancing over to see that Carlisle had taken an interest in the topic.

"Internal Communication Orderly Mediators, or COM-units for short. Basically, it's a wireless internal network. The channels can be private, that is, they require a password, public, open to anyone in the faction with minimum security against Decepticons, or, in rare, high-risk situations, there are what are called Prime Channels. Prime Channels' passwords change for each mech once every breem, and no two mechs have the same password. Those channels are usually reserved for Officers, mainly Optimus, Prowl, Jazz, Ironhide, Red Alert, and myself. Though, sometimes, we'll have a solo mission for one of the other bots and they'll have access to the PC as well," explained Ratchet, leaving Bella with only more questions.

"What's a breem? And who are Optimist, Ironhire, and Red Alerter?" Ratchet chuckled at Bella's botched versions of his comrades' names.

"Optim_us_ Prime is the Commanding Officer, and the kindest-sparked mech you'll ever find. Red Alert is our Security Director, a little paranoid, but in his line of work, it just means he's that much better at what he does. Ironh_ide_ is out Weapons Specialist, he may seem gruff, but he's, ah, I believe the term is a 'large softling'?" Ratchet finished, looking to Bella for reaffirmation on the correct usage of the earthen term.

Bella giggled, nodding as she corrected, "Big softie, but that sounds just as good."

Ratchet nodded once to show his understanding before continuing, "As for a breem, they are Cybertronian time units. You see, your planet has seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks, months, years, decades, centuries, and millennia, correct? Well, as Cybertron has a different rotation that Earth, our time units are vastly different. For starters, your system is based off twos, threes, and fives. Sixty seconds to a minute, twenty-four hours to a day, correct? Well, we tend to avoid fives, as an alien species called 'Quintessons', which you will learn of some other time, have been almost plague-like in our history, so we stick to twos and threes. Astroseconds are about eight point thirty-three seconds, Klicks are about thirty-three point two seconds, Breems are nine point ninety-six minutes, Joors are thirteen point nine four four hours, Cycles are three point four eight six days, Orns are twenty point nine one six days, Deca-cycles are thirty-four point eighty-six days, Vorns are one hundred ninety-four point seven oh oh six one six oh one six four two seven one years, and Mega-Vorns are one hundred ninety-four thousand, seven hundred point six one six oh one six four two seven one years. Do you have all of that?"

"Not at all, but I think I get the basic gist of it. If I need a reminder, I'll just ask, okay?" Bella answered, trying to think of how to phrase her next question.

Ratchet seemed to sense her internal struggle and cut her off, stating, "I am approximately two hundred twenty-two thousand, six hundred fourteen point five mega-vorns old, and was only about seventy-four mega-vorns old when the War started."

Bella just stared, as Ratchet continued, "And you should rest. When you wake up, there will be water and sustenance ready for you."

Ignoring Carlisle's attempts to speak to her as Ratchet exited the room to get the others, Bella laid down and tried to contemplate beings whose wars lasted longer than the planets upon which they fought.

When considering this, the fact that Edward had left her for several months seemed somehow inconsequential.

--


	9. Breakdown

_Author's notice: I've noticed a pattern recently that has led me to believe that either the people reading my stories are all one-handed (a comment for which this authoress is going to hell) or just rather lazy. In any case, due to the utter lack of helpful comments, there is now a quota of comments that must be met before any new chapters will be posted. I know this is conceited. I know you're all going to flame me. I know I'm going to Hell, but I don't really care. I require, as of now, three comments per chapter in order to post the next. I have 17 faves on this story, and 27 alerts, and no one is commenting and I just find it rather rude. Sorry if you've been commenting and find this offensive, I do appreciate the comments I've received and I take the time to read and record each and every one, but I need muse, and my muse leaves me without comments. FOR THE SAKE OF MY MUSE, REVIEW!!!_

--

Ratchet re-entered his Medical Bay to see the humans (_'They _are _humans, however much they attempt to argue the opposite.'_) sitting exactly where he had left them, and sighed at the sight of Edward kneeling in the same, startled pose he had been in when Bella had all but disowned him and his family.

"Kid?" Ratchet began, looking to the human.

And his temper flared.

"I'm not a kid! I'm nearly a hundred years old, and I don't need you to tell me how badly I messed up, or how I ought to be ashamed, because I know, and I am! Just like I'm older than you!" shouted Edward, rising from his spot on the floor.

Ratchet, being who he was, would never accept such challenges to his authority, especially in _his_ Medical Bay.

"Listen, _kid_, because I'm only saying this once before I start stapling people to the ceiling. You're new here, so I'm going to be nice. I only have three rules, and these are them; rule number one: this room, and all medical facilities on this ship, are under _my_ jurisdiction, _my _rooms, _my_ rules and no yippee sparkling is going to be ordering me around in them; rule number two: upset or bother _my_ patients, and anyone who has had so much as a tune up by me is classified as _my patient_, and I _will_ disassemble you; the third, and final rule, is that, since I _am_ older than you -- by about forty-three billion, three hundred forty-three million, one hundred eighty thousand, one hundred eighty-four Earth years, thank you very much -- when I call you kid, you will _not_ throw a hysterical fit! Understood?" ranted the angered medic.

Earthen eyes widening at the age of the Cybertronian medic, Edward could only nod dumbly, vainly trying to grasp the concept of being older than Earthen life.

"Good," concluded Ratchet, blatantly ending the conversation.

Suddenly, the Medical Bay doors flew open and in walked Wheeljack, face solemn, carrying a still mech in his arms. Alice looked over, noting that the red mech in his arms was considerably smaller than the other giants. His red paint was scratched and dented, and his armor was missing in several spots where whatever had done this to him had obviously been far more brutal than others. Wires hung out of seams and sparked at random, and his left optic was shattered.

Ratchet's expression shifted from shock to horror to anger in a split second, and he growled out, "Who?"

"Who da you think, Ratch'?" came the terse reply, followed by the clang of the mech being dropped none-too-gently on one of the giant medical berths.

"Slaggit! If Sunstreaker doesn't cool it with the minibots, I may go ahead and shove him in the brig for the rest of his miserable online cycle!" groused Ratchet, grabbing a tool from -.

"Where'd that come from?" Alice asked aloud before she could stop herself. It had seemed to just appear in thin air, but that couldn't be right. It had to have come from somewhere.

"Subspace," began Wheeljack as he started prying the red minibot's armor off. "It's an alternate dimension we discovered a few mega-vorns back, and by issuing certain command codes we can store and retrieve objects regardless of size, mass, density, or composition. It's like a pocket you can never lose anything in."

Nodding, Alice realized that not only did she not understand, she wasn't sure she wanted to. _'Alternate dimension? Like in science fictions?'_

Edward nodded at Alice, Ratchet noting both this and the subtle spark signature that preceded it.

_'How is it,'_ considered the mech silently, _'that they can use spark energy without knowing what it is? Does he realize he's brodcasting our position to enemies?'_

"Do you realize what you are doing?"

The human looked up at him questioningly, and asked, "What are you talking about?"

"When you communicate with others silently, do you realize what you are doing?"

"How did you know about that?" he hastily defended.

"Because when you do that you give off an odd spark signature. It could potentially be how the Decepticons came across you and yours in the first place," Ratchet spoke softly, not wanting to alarm the Earthlings.

"What do you mean?" the concern splayed across his face was a palpable force.

"What 'e means is 'at you gotta stop readin' others' thoughts, 'r else the 'Cons are gonna swarm us," answered Wheeljack, cursing as the arc welder he was using burned his palm.

"Wait," began Rosalie, fearfully clutching Emmet's arm. "So you mean that so long as we're near Edward, those... _things_ can find us?"

Esme glared at Rosalie, but Edward didn't notice, visibly shaken by the revelation.

"I did this to her. I hurt Bella. God, have mercy," breathed Edward as he collapsed to his side and remained that way, staring blankly at the space before him.

Ratchet sighed, _'Primus, if I'd known the kid was _this_ dramatic, I'd'a kept my fragging mouth shut... Still, he needs to know for future reference...'_

"Listen, kid, I know all this is a lot to take in at once, but you phasing out isn't going to help anyone. I know you're upset about Bella, and slag it all if I wasn't ready to kill you when she started crying, but I'm gonna take a proverbial page from her book and tell you what she told me. It's gonna be okay."

Edward looked up for a moment, hearing Esme's respect for Ratchet echo about in his mind before said medic gave a low growl and turned to glare at the doors.

"Dammit, Sunstreaker! If you're just gonna stand there I can get Prowl to give you something to do! Now either make yourself useful or get the frag away from my Medical Bay!" screeched the red and white mech.

The golden warrior slid gracefully into the room, an air of known perfection about him as he walked, listless and unblinking, to the red mech's table side.

"Ratchet?" he choked, and the vampires understood that something was wrong. Wisely, they kept silent, trying to look uninterested.

The hard glare subsided as the medic approached him and held out his hands.

"What's wrong, Sunstreaker?" he queried softly as the slightly taller mech took his hands.

"Sideswipe's not a traitor. I know he's not. He'd never be a traitor, right, Ratchet?"

The uncertainty in his voice left Ratchet visibly shaken, and he shook his head 'no' before asking, "What's wrong, Sunstreaker?"

"I felt it. Ratch, I felt it through him. Ratchet," Sunstreaker began quietly, growing increasingly hysterical with each word, each syllable that left his dentals. "Ratchet, he touched him! Ratchet, I can feel his hands, Megatron's hands, Shockwave's hands, all over me, everywhere, touching, Sideswipe can't hold on anymore. Ratchet, please, make it stop! Make it stop, it hurts! Primus it hurts! Stop!"

Ratchet grabbed hold of his creation, pinning him onto one of the medical berths as he gently, with every ounce of professionalism one would expect from the ancient medic, plunged a usb-like object into the side of his neck armor.

Sunstreaker's body trembled once, then dropped to the berth, brilliant optics dimmed in silent recharge.

The room was achingly quiet, Ratchet's treacheal tubing feeling cinched too tightly for proper circulation. Wheeljack was the first to move, wrapping his long limbs around Ratchet's shaking frame. The silence was broken as a low keening was torn from the red and white mech's vocalizer, all energy leaving his body as he fell to the ground in Wheeljack's arms, sobbing and shaking and weakly beating his fists on Wheelack's chassis.

"Jack, Primus, Jack," chocked Ratchet, gripping his upper arms tightly, resting his helm on the Lancia's chassis. "We've got to get him back. We've got to. My... my sparkling is hurting, Jack, and I'm not there to help him. Primus knows I've been cruel to them both, but it was only ever because I worried. But Jack, oh, Jack, I fought with him before he left. I told him..."

"What did you tell him, sweetling?" prompted Wheeljack kindly.

"I told him to jump in the Inferno. I said, 'I don't care if you stumble in here carrying your guttering spark, I won't help you, Side...'"

Hysteria calming, it flared back up as he tried to speak his child's name. It hurt. Primus, it hurt him to speak of the beautiful, cocky, funny, loving son he had lost.

"I didn't mean it, Jack. I swear I didn't mean it!" he shouted, and Wheeljack tilted his helm up to gaze into burning blue optics, so deep, so full of such sorrow.

"Listen to me, Ratchet, and listen carefully, because I'm gonna keep sayin' this until you get it. Sideswipe knows you love 'im. He knows you're grumpy. He knows ya like t'yell 'n throw things at people 'n drink too much t' forget 'n that ya've healed Decepticons. He knows all o' tha', but ya know what else 'e knows? He knows your his creator, 'n there ain't nothin' ya c'n do ta change it. He knows tha' ya love him, and he loves you, too."

Pulling the medic's face closer to his own, Wheeljack murmured, "And I do, too."

Kissing the distraught medic deeply, Wheeljack bean tugging on his armor, getting the CMO's pelvic armor off a moment before a polite cough came from one of the transfixed vampires.

"Yeah?" Wheeljack gruffly inquired. Didn't they see he was busy? The flushed face of Ratchet hovering mere inches away from his own was enough to cause overload on its own.

"There are others here," Esme pointed out as gently as she could. She understood that sometimes you needed certain comforts, but she really _didn't_ want to watch a robotic pornography.

"And?" prompted Wheeljack, his voice sounding far too strained to have the intimidating effect he really wanted. What was the femme's point?

"Aren't you going to do that, well... somewhere else? Somewhere _unoccupied_?" questioned Esme wonderingly.

"Why? It's just intercourse? Your human internet is filled with it... which reminds me! Ratchet, I've got a surprise for us waiting in my lab. Would you let me carry you?" The green and white mech's attention was returned to the hyperventilating medic in his arms.

Optics glazed over with lust, Ratchet could only nod dumbly, needing the distraction, needing to overload, needing to cry, and needing to be away from the strange Earthlings for a while.

With that, the vampires were left alone to the Medical Bay.

"Well," drawled Emmet finally, "that was awkward."


	10. Sparkbreaker

I own nothing. Tried to make this an interesting chapter worth reviewing, as I realize that I shouldn't have bitched so much in the last chapter about wanting reviews. Rather, I should earn them through my writing. Conclusion: If you like this chapter, you should review! (LOL, I'm not a review whore or anything… Stop looking at me like that!)

Time units;

Astroseconds = 8.33 sec

Klicks = 33.2 sec

Breems = 9.96 min

Joors = 13.44 hr

Cycles =3.486 days

Orns =20.916 days

Deca-cycles = 34.86 days

Vorns = 194.700616016427 years

Mega-Vorns = 194,700.6160164271

--

(Previously)

"Well," drawled Emmet finally, "that was awkward."

--

Rosalie stood, shaking almost imperceptible, recalling what Sunstreaker had shouted upon entering the Bay. Esme noted her lack of response, and approached her slowly, as one would an inured animal.

"Rose?" she began softly, turning Emmet's attentions to his wife.

"Rose, are you okay?" Emmet asked, walking up to her.

Rosalie said nothing.

They waited, then Jasper gasped, gripping his head as Alice held him close.

"What's wrong, Jasper?" whispered Alice, concern splayed across her face.

"Sunstreaker's waking up. He's panicking, he think he's somewhere else. Somewhere cold."

As if on cue, the golden mech screamed, writhing off the berth, hitting the ground with an almighty clang as he continued to bend about, shrieking loudly.

The vampires froze, staring at the crying alien, unable to wrap their minds around the aching mech. It was, Alice was certain, nearly an hour before help arrived in the form of a flush-faced, red-and-white CMO. Ratchet drew Sunstreaker up to him, carefully forced his chest panels apart to reveal the blue glow beneath them, and, opening his own to reveal a similar orb, pressed the two lights together. Sunstreaker slowly ceased squirming and trembled hysterically in the mech's arms, clicking softly in the back of his tracheal tubing.

Wheeljack entered only moments later, a tube hanging out of his crotch, leaking lubricant steadily as he opened his chest as well, quickly adding himself to the family bonding with Ratchet and Sunstreaker. The gold mech drifted slowly to sleep, and Wheeljack used his hand place the tube back in his crotch, putting the cover back over it and letting it 'click' into place.

"Ratch?" Wheeljack whispered, his voice straining against the fear that rose too quickly.

"Jack, fuck it. I can't keep this up. I can't wait until Prowl gets his fucking act together," Ratchet breathed, shaking angrily, "I can't keep hoping my sparkling is alright when I know he's not. I can't keep ignoring Sunstreaker, and Primus fucking slag it all, I won't wait for him to die!"

"Ratch, I hear ya, but what can we do?" Wheeljack replied softly, normally blue optics tinged purple around the edges.

"We can bring him back."

The declaration had not come from the distraught medic, but, in fact, from the determined female standing in the doorway, Carlisle at her side.

Bella's gaze met Ratchet's, and she continued, "If Sunstreaker and Sideswipe are bound to each other, then shouldn't we be able to find where the Decepticons are keeping him? And from there, Sunstreaker and I can break in and rescue him while you two distract them."

"O' course we know he's at th' 'Con's base," murmured Wheeljack, heavily considering the idea. "An' Sunstreaker'd be able t' find 'is brother anywhere. If ya could slip inta th' lock -- and ya _look_ small enough ta do it -- you could break th' mechanism holdin' it shut, an' Sunshine here could get 'is bro out. Ratch' an' me c'n do jus' fine wit' the cover fire, so that shouldn't be too big of a deal an'--"

"No," came a voice from the table where the vampires had been silently watching for the past few minutes. Edward stepped forward, expression pained, and spoke, "Bella, I know I have no right to ask anything of you right now, but--"

"No, God dammit, you don't, Edward. Sideswipe took care of me when you weren't there. He stayed because I needed him, which is more than I can say for any of you," Bella sighed, meeting Edward's stunned gaze with a passion he had rarely seen in her eyes. "I loved you, dammit, and you left me. Understand that much, Edward. Before you left me, I would have done anything -- climbed mountains, lived underground, died or lived -- for you, but it wasn't enough to keep you here, to keep you with me. Now? I don't know what I would or wouldn't do for you, because I'm not even sure if I love you any more. You have no control over me, do you hear me? Zero, zilch, nada. If I want to gamble my life for Sideswipe, then God dammit, I'm gonna gamble and there isn't a single thing you can say about it."

Ratchet smiled slightly at the girl's proclamation. It had seemed to him, as he listened, that this had been a long time coming. He thought of his relationship with Wheeljack, where both understood the deadliness of each other's work and accepted that, while they'd rather not have their lover and bond mate play dice with their life, it was their life to play with and they both respected each other in that matter. However, it had appeared to Ratchet that the Earth boy didn't understand that to have a loving relationship, he had to allow Bella some breathing room.

"Bella, please, reconsider --" pleaded Edward.

"No, son," Carlisle chimed in, placing a hand on Bella's shoulder. "We already messed up with Bella once. We didn't listen to her. We hurt her. I'm not doing that again, as I, for one, believe Bella can save Sideswipe. And I'll support you no matter what you do."

The final comment was aimed only at Bella, who gave a small smile to the doctor as she nodded, confirming her ambitions.

"Well, then, that's settled. Wheeljack, take Bella to your lab and teach her how the lock mechanisms work," instructed Ratchet, taking command of the situation. "I'll take care of Sunshine and --"

"Wait!" called Alice, holding Jasper's hand. "We want to help, too."

"I'm afraid that would be unwise. As you and yours are the ones the Decepticons are after, we cannot run the risk of them obtaining one of you," countered Ratchet.

"There must be some way we can help," offered Esme hopefully.

"Anything, something, please," begged Rosalie, wiping her dry eyes. "Please, Ratchet."

All eyes were on the teen as Ratchet inquired, "Why do you want to help?"

"Because..." Rosalie paused. Bella was an obnoxious snot by her own rights, but she'd finally stood up to Edward, someone so much stronger than her. It was something she hadn't been able to do when she was human even to another human. Even if Bella was a snot, she was a semi-respectable one. And she didn't need to know. None of them did. Rosalie continued, "Because no one should have to go through what Sideswipe is."

She felt Emmett's grip on her hand tighten slightly and affectionately and gave him a meek smile. He knew. He understood.

"Alright, I suppose you can maintain communications via the info room. We'll need any intel we can get, so you'll need to tell us what's going on everywhere. On base, around us, with Sunstreaker and Bella, everything," prompted Ratchet.

Turning to Ratchet, Edward found the voice to ask, "Please, let me go in Bella's place."

The red and white mech glared at him and replied, "That would be utterly counterproductive."

"I don't care! They can have my DNA if they want it so badly! I won't let them hurt Bella!" he shrieked in return.

"That's not your call to make, Edward. So either go with Ratchet and help us, or shut up and get out of the way."

This new, strong Bella was a stranger to Edward, who had always thought her to be a tentative girl, one who hung onto every word he spoke like a prayer. He could predict a fair amount about that Bella in that he knew that, whatever he did, she would accept it with a quiet nod and a soft smile. But now that a fire seemed to have wakened in her blood, a passion he had scarcely ever encountered, he didn't quite know what to do. He knew he loved her, and that he would do anything for her, but he didn't know how to protect her when she wouldn't even talk to him.

_'Maybe,'_ he thought cynically,_ 'she's finally realized I am not what is best for her. Maybe, when she has returned from her rescue, she will leave me. Maybe she will have children, and become president, and stir all American hearts to such an ardent affection for her that they will follow her into an age of prosperity and knowledge as has never been seen on this Earth. Perhaps she should...'_

"I --" Edward choked slightly, then started again, "I'll help however I can."

And Bella nodded as Ratchet took the vampires away to his quarters to teach them to use the com links and vid cameras.

--

(A bar in Yuss, Two orns earlier)

The mech wasn't particularly handsome. He had no wings, nor any other outward show of flight capabilities, nor any wheels, nor any weapons, nor any sign that any part of his physiology was transformation capable. He was a lackluster blue, with several small dents and scrapes where time had worn at his body and a poor economy had worn at his bank account. He sat at the end of the bar, nursing a cube of cheap, low grade energon, ignoring the conversations around him which ranged from the poor weather to sexual preferences to favorite cities.

He would have peacefully continued to ignore the inane chatter had an obviously overcharged white mech not plopped himself down next to him, slapped him hard on the back, and ordered a round of drinks for the both of them.

"Heya, pal," began the swaying mech cheerfully. "You look like you could use a friend. And a lay. I can do both."

The bot pointed proudly at himself and the blue bot rolled his optics.

"Aren't you a little young to be this overcharged?" he asked politely, nodding at the white bot.

"Who, me? Nah, I'm a pro at this stuff. Name's Highrise," he replied, confident in his ability to woo anyone in the bar. The bartender brought the drinks and set them down before the two mechs.

"Interesting. But, may I ask why a bot like yourself would be looking to me for such pleasures?" an intelligence in his voice bespoke of years of studies in such high-class places as the Towers of Iacon. It was utterly lost on Highrise.

"You look familiar. I can't exactly... hey, wait a klick! I know! You look like that bot on all the news feeds! You know, that bot that escaped Fort Skyk's mental insti... isn't... instutu... place," he finished, giving up on the difficult tetra-syllabic word.

The blue bot's optic ridges rose so slightly it would have been imperceptible to a sober bot. His head cocked to the side in pseudo-curiosity, and he spoke, "Really? I have heard nothing of such a nefarious convict. Perhaps you would mind enlightening me? I should like to be able to protect myself in the event that I may meet him."

The white bot's face light up in excitement as he explained, "Well, apparently the bot, Cyberclock, or Cyberglitch, or something, is seriously messed up. Was in for canni... canta... carry... for eating bots. You see, he killed his own creator and ate his spark because, according to the crazy bot, he was being rude. Then he drank this other bot's energon for insulting this one femme in public. The bot's a fragging psycho."

The blue bot appeared to contemplate this for a moment before Highrise asked, "What's your name, anyway?"

He smirked, and to any who knew him, those that were now passed helping the naive, young bot, he looked positively malicious. "Why don't we retire to your home and I shall teach it to you, slowly and personally?"

Thinking he was finally getting laid, Highrise led him out the back and through several alleyways before they reached his small apartment. They entered through the front door and went to his room, where Highrise showed the blue bot his berth, offering him a drink.

"No, thank you," he politely declined, gazing intently at the white mech. The room's light had a faint red tinge to it, and while it did little to his appearance, Highrise's purity seemed somehow lessened in the accusing glare of the light. "Perhaps you would like to begin our lesson now, Highrise? You need only lay down, I have taught this may times before."

Thinking himself lucky for having found such a skilled mech, Highrise laid on his back, closing his eyes in anticipation.

A sharp pain in his neck left him offline.

--

When Highrise came to, his wrists and ankles were chained to the bed with stasis cuffs, and he was unable to so much as squeak. The blue mech sat, straddling his chassis, with a vibro-blade in his servo.

"I do not wish to kill you, Highrise, but I'm afraid you know far too much already, and I cannot have anyone finding me in Yuss. As I rather appreciated you naive, kind approach to me, I have off-lined your pain receptors. You will feel nothing," elucidated the mech, making an incision in Highrise's chassis to showcase his point.

Highrise made no outward sign of acknowledgement. He couldn't.

"Now, I would like to explain a few, small things that might have prevented your death," began the cold-sparked mech, dragging the blade along the edge of his spark casing. "First of all, little sparklings should learn to keep away from the bars. Big, bad mechs, serial killers, rapists, and worse _live_ for places like these. Secondly," and at this he makes the first incision at a corner of the silvery box housing Highrise's spark, "you are not a whore. You are not a rent mech. Neither are many of the mechs and femmes in the bar. You will not approach them with the outright goal of interfacing. It is impolite, and the reason you are now on your death bed."

He let the blade finish prying open the spark casing, and licked the energon off of it, savouring the enzymes of fear, of an adrenaline-like substance, and pressed his lip components agains his audio.

"And third," he continued, whispering sweetly, the spider's last words to a dying fly, "Don't talk to strangers." And he ate his spark.


	11. Should I Stay or Should I Go

I own nothing. Filler chapter is filler. Anywho, had a b! of a time trying to get this to work how I wanted it to, and I'm still not totally satisfied, but, yeah, this is definitely an in between, explanation, fluffy, cream tasting filler chapter. Please don't hate me…

Time units;

Astroseconds = 8.33 sec

Klicks = 33.2 sec

Breems = 9.96 min

Joors = 13.44 hr

Cycles =3.486 days

Orns =20.916 days

Deca-cycles = 34.86 days

Vorns = 194.700616016427 years

Mega-Vorns = 194,700.6160164271 years

--

(Autobot base, Two Orns and Two Days Later)

"Thank you."

The words startled Bella so badly she toppled off the stool she was standing on. Landing on her bottom, she turned to see who had spoken only to find Sunstreaker staring down at her with a spark of something unreadable in his optics.

"Wha--?" she asked intelligently.

"You _did_ _say_ you were going with me to rescue my brother, correct?" While the question was seemingly innocent, the darker tone in which it was asked betrayed the truth of what would happen were she to back out now.

"Yes, I'll help. Wheeljack showed me how to unlock the doors." Searching for something to say, she continued, "What's Sideswipe like?"

The sorrowful god's optics softened, then seemed to stare at something not quite there as he replied, "Sideswipe is good. He's an irresponsible, relentless, unapologetic prankster who, more often that not, gets me blamed for his games. He's funny as Pit, slightly retarded, and able to sweet-talk walls to move. He's a demon in the berth, and whomever he brings back to our quarters, we share. He is my brother."

Bella watched as he seemed to tremble, afraid of this, afraid of that, and said the only thing she could, "We'll get your brother back. It'll be okay."

The softness, the slight sorrow that she had heard (_'Was it really only eight days ago?'_) when Sunstreaker woke her after their long drive had risen to his voice as he thanked her, and this time she had the pleasure of watching it spread across her face like a streak of sunlight

"Sunstreaker?" Bella began, cocking her head to the side slightly as she continued, "You said Sideswipe is a, um, a 'demon in the berth'. Do you and your brother...?"

"Interface?" finished an amused Sunstreaker, "Yes. Frequently. Why?"

"Well," Bella wracked her brain for an excuse and thanked whatever deity was listening as she queried, "I was just wondering if your relationship with him is more of a sibling relationship or a --"

"You want advice on what to do with Edward," guessed Sunstreaker.

Bella nodded dumbly.

Sunstreaker sighed, but answered, "He's an aft. He doesn't respect you. Maybe he really does love you, and maybe you even love him, and maybe he would give everything he is for you, but he doesn't respect you. He thinks you need all the protection you can get, and maybe you do. Maybe he's right. Maybe you _will_ die without his help, however, the fact of the matter is that his methods of going about protecting you are beyond an insult to your Earthling intelligence. They are an insult to _who_ you are, to _what_ you are, and to where you come from. If I was you, I'd leave him."

Bella looked down at the table, Sunstreaker's answer squashing any thoughts she had of getting back with Edward. Sunstreaker was right. He didn't respect her. He didn't trust her to know what to do, and to ask for help if she didn't. He didn't --

"However," Sunstreaker continued, sighing as he seemed to look right through her, "if Sideswipe ever acted like that, I'd give him one Pit of a beat down, probably smash his cranial unit against a wall a few times, and then... give him another chance."

"Wha--?" Bella's eyes connected with Sunstreaker's aqua optics, searching for the answer she hoped and prayed was there.

"You do love him. I can see it when you talk about leaving him. The idea hurts. You're angry, and rightfully so, but you love him."

Sunstreaker, lifted Bella to his face, cupping her body gently in a golden palm, and murmured, "Bella, you'll regret it for the rest of your life if you let him go now. Don't make the same mistake I did. Don't _ever_ let him go."

Bella smiled softly, then giggled, "I think that's the first time you've ever called me Bella."

Sunstreaker grinned sadly, petting her head and back, and promised, "It's a one-time thing, so don't read too much into it, 'La."

Bella felt tears well up in her eyes, and made no attempt to stop them as she hugged Sunstreaker's thumb, whispering her thanks to him. In this way they comforted each other until Bella finally fell asleep, her body no more willing to move than her mind was ready to think.

Sunstreaker smiled, returned Bella to her quarters, and tucked her into her bed, sighing, "Sleep well, little sister. Tomorrow, we attack."

--

(Somewhere at the Bottom of the Atlantic Ocean)

"Lord Megatron," began Shockwave, approaching his master.

"Yes, my pet?" came the purred reply, Megatron not bothering to stand from his throne, a seat made of Cybertronian metals whose back was a simple, yet elegant Decepticon insignia. Twelve steps led up to the pedestal upon which sat the warlord's throne. Shockwave remained at the bottom.

"I received a warning from the Fort Skyk Mental Institution. It seems some cannibalistic mech by the name of Cybertock has escaped and was last seen stealing an Autobot ship from the station in Kaon. While no coordinates could be garnered, it seemed he was headed in Earth's general direction. Having left Kaon almost an orn ago, Cybertron Command finally deemed it fitting to inform us of the situation," Shockwave growled, wanting to see that someone was punished for this grievous oversight. "My Lord, what do we do?"

Megatron sat, contemplating, then replied, "We wait. And protect ourselves. All patrols are to be done in trines. All mechs are to COM in once a breem at minimum. All mechs are to be alerted immediately of this... development."

"Yes, my Lord," agreed Shockwave, bowing to his leader.

"And Shockwave?" continued Megatron, undeterred by his general's apparent readiness to leave.

"My Lord?" For a faceless mech, he managed to convey an astounding amount of confusion.

"You, my precious pet, are not to leave my side until this problem has been dealt with."

Had he been able to, Shockwave would have been grinning from audio to audio. As it was, he mentally patted himself on the back for bringing this to Megatron's attention, and climbed up to stand beside his master, answering, "Yes, my Lord."

--

(The Northern Pole of Neptune)

A small, metallic, meteor-like object sailed unnoticed by, the creature within grinning madly.

"I'll be home soon, my love."

--

(The Autobot Base, The Next Day)

Bella stood in the doorway, watching Edward check the readouts on various screens. He didn't look like he knew she was there, but she knew he did.

"I love you," Bella began, walking in.

Edward's head shot up, amber eyes meeting her own in a pleading gaze.

"Bella, I'm so so-"

"Don't. Not until I'm done. Just listen, okay?" requested Bella, watching him nod silently.

She sighed, continuing, "I love you. I would do anything to protect you. Anything in the world, in any world, in any universe, to protect you. And I know you'd do the same. However, I'm an adult, Edward, and whether you like it or not, I am going to make my own decisions. This isn't nineteen eighteen, and I'm not a submissive woman. I know my rights, and I know how to ask for help if and when I need it."

She strode forward, approaching Edward as she walked down the small set of twelve stairs that had been installed by Wheeljack at the side of the door to let the humans walk freely in and out.

Standing nearly face-to-face, she reached out and cupped his marble cheek, whispering, "Right now, what I really need is for you to respect that, and to respect me. I'm not as fragile as you seem to think I am. I'm not a Cybertronically advanced superhuman, but I'm not weak. I'm not stupid. I'm not afraid, not anymore. Edward, I love you, I really do, with everything I am, but I need time. I... I feel like we had one date and all of a sudden we're too deeply in love to notice anything else."

She brought his face closer to hers, he gave no resistance to her tugging, and breathed, "We need to restart. To take it slow, get to know each other first, as friends, as people, and then we can get back together. Now you can talk."

He felt the familiar burning in the back of his throat, but ignored it as he answered, "You're right. You're absolutely right, and you always have been. I... I never even realized that I was making your decisions for you. I never asked if you wanted to meet my family. I never asked if you wanted to go to the dance. I never even asked your favorite color. I'm... _so_ sorry, Bella. Please, I can't exist without you. Give me one more chance, please?"

Bella smiled, kissed his forehead, and replied, "It's turquoise."

And, for the first time in a long time, Edward smiled, too.


End file.
